


Just Passing Through

by Fics4you



Series: Embers [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunter Heists, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Cutesy, F/M, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Description, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Pre-Fake AH Crew, Torture, Vagabond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 10:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12056709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fics4you/pseuds/Fics4you
Summary: You had worked with Ryan long before joining the Fakes, your adventures never failing to prove eventful





	Just Passing Through

Small operations were always a rush, a flurry of adrenaline and chaos that leaves your devastation strewn across a city’s nameless streets. With each passing week you’d find yourselves somewhere new, Ryan and yourself taking turns to throw a dart at the map pinned to whatever surface you could find. With each soft thud of the piercing pin you would offer each other a beaming smile before gathering your gear and heading out; continuing along your extended crime spree. Each mission brought with it more notoriety, further dragging your names through the mud so that law enforcement could sneer at every utterance; the Cheshire and the Vagabond. 

You turn to him now, the moon casting a light dusting of silver across his calm face, his sandy hair turning to silk as it sweeps behind his ears; short and practical. Sensing your gaze he looks up from the map he had been studying, offering you a lopsided smile. “You ready for this?” he asks, raising his eyebrows teasingly in your direction. Scoffing, you detach yourself from the hood of the car you had commandeered, opening your arms confidently to him as you walk backwards and away; “born ready, baby”. He chuckles, deep and throaty as he folds up the map and joins you, a soft breeze musing through his hair. 

“In that case, I’ll see you soon”, he grins, holding up a hand and you high five him, both of you slamming each other’s hands with enough force to leave the skin stinging. Smoothly Ryan holds out his palms for you to smash downwards before you both leap away quickly, finger guns firing. He was too slow, your speed catching him mid-draw and he clutches his chest, gurgling and sinking to his knees. “Catch ya” you tell him, blowing on the imaginary barrel of your gun, leaving him in the dust.  
“Meet back here!” he yells after you, pulling himself to his feet and waving after you. 

 

* * *

 

 

Your face had grown used to the wanted papers they were plastered to, shivering on the wind and crunching beneath your boots as you run while your arms pump and heart races. With each sharp breath that draws the icy air into your lungs you get closer to the armored truck, skidding into your knees as you pull out the rocket launcher and shoot at the back doors. In an eruption of fire and smoke the vehicle swerves, the horn blaring as the driver’s head crashes into the steering wheel and the truck’s doors burst open. “Oh, that was nice!” exclaims Ryan in your ear, his voice broken with static as you stand, returning the launcher to your back.  

“Hell yeah” you smile, quickly approaching the truck and flinging the doors open, snatching at the stacks of cash, all of which were helpfully bundled in bags, ripe for the picking. “My time to shine” you hear him chuckle, the soft pops of his gun drifting lazily towards you with the accompanying sirens. You roll your eyes and continue to loot, knowing that with Ryan on your side you could clear out the truck before even worrying about local law enforcement. 

“This is the life, huh?” you sigh thoughtfully. An explosion tears through the streets a block away as you leisurely pack up the rest of the money, police cars blown into the air and hurled into the surrounding buildings, shouting ricocheting off the asphalt and drowning in the gutters. “It wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable without you” he responds, and your smile widened, a blush rising in your cheeks. “Aww, Pooky!”   
“Don’t get used to the affection, Chess” he jokes, and you can almost hear his eyes rolling.  

Pleased with your work, you begin to exit the vehicle, the night nibbling on the tip of your nose and playing with your fingers. “I’ve got the goods” you say, pressing a finger to the com in your ear, hearing him grunt in affirmation. “Awesome, I’m taking cover now” he tells you, your ears picking up the faint whooshing of the wind billowing around him as he moves. “We’ll get rid of these stars and meet up in a few” you reply; picking up speed as you head into a nearby construction site, “thanks for protecting my ass.”

“An ass like that needs protecting”

“Fuck yeah it does”

 

* * *

 

 

Sauntering through the abandoned cement mixers and girders you stare down at the small device strapped to your wrist, watching as the small star symbols flash and begin to fade. 3 was always a good number for you, generally result in a good haul, but constantly a pain when waiting for it to disappear. Still, you took this time to keep wandering, your boots kicking up dust and small stones as they clatter in your path. 

Glancing up you realise you had let your guard down, unaware of the figures as they step from the shadows, their grinding laughter raising the hairs on your arms. Standing your ground you settle into a defensive stance, the blade at your side burning in anticipation. Drawing closer the light illuminates their faces and your nose scrunches in disgust; letting yourself relax. 

“What do you want, David?” you ask, glaring at your ex, his once luscious hair now greasy and matted atop his head; his brown eyes flat and dim. Taking in his appearance you can’t help the disdain that creeps onto your face, his baggy and ripped jeans barely hanging from his hips, his t shirt stained and ragged. You try not to draw attention to the way in which you were sizing up the men accompanying him, calculating your potential movements as they pull into a loose circle around you. 

“Y/N?” David’s voice drips with feigned surprise, his eyes far too wide to be genuine; “Y/N, is that you?” His body bobs as he speaks, as if his words originate in his shoulders; his arms swinging limply by his side. “I really don’t have time for this” you say, waving a hand to dismiss him, working your way to the edge of the circle, but his friends close ranks and blocking you. 

“Oh c’mon, Y/N” he leers, loving the taste of your name. Internally you squirm, uncomfortable as he watches you, “surely” he continues, taking a step closer, “I have a right to ask what you’re doing in my turf.”  
“Turf?” you laugh at him, amused; “no one has turfs anymore.” You can see his eyes narrow, the group of men surrounding you rolling their shoulders and sharing eager glances in anticipation. “That’s where you’re wrong, babe” he tells you, your nose twitching into a sneer.  
“You’re gonna want to refrain from calling me  _‘babe’._ ”   
“Oh that’s right!” he chastises, arms waving dramatically “the great Cheshire was always too good to be my babe”; he glares at you as you shrug, pulling an insulting face in response. 

“No, really” you insist, growing irritated, your fingers twitching towards the long, wicked knife hidden at your side; “you need to fuck off.” At this he laughs, his cronies joining in; unsure as to what they are supposed to find entertaining. “Well, here’s the thing,” he clasps his hands together, pointing both of his index fingers in your direction, with his mouth pouting slightly; “you walked into our territory, so we really are going to have to kill you.”   
“That’s a pretty quick escalation there,” you say, raising an eyebrow to question his logic.  
He shakes his head, locking his jaw as he grins with his teeth, yellowed and chipped; “I could let you off with a warning, but you’d have to make it worth our while.”

“Oh, ew”, you spit as your sneer returns, “you’ve got to be kidding me. This is what you get up to now?” he shrugs, unaffected by your repulsed comments, “what would Janet say?” At this he stops, body language suddenly shifting as your words lash against him, his eyes enrage.  
“I wouldn’t know what Janet would say” he seethes, racing up to you and glaring down, “it’s so hard to ask her now, considering you drove a knife through mom’s chest.” Up close and towering over you, your nose wrinkles at the smell, his skin glistening with sweat and oil. “Not my fault” you say nonchalantly, forcing yourself to remain where you stood, refusing to back down, “should be blaming your Dad and his money, and maybe the absolute hatred he was harbouring over her cheating on his gross ass.” 

With an enraged howl David begins to shake, fuming as his hands curl into fists at his sides. With his anger comes the approach of the rest of his gang, all leering menacingly. “One more word,” he threatens, “one more fucking word and-” you hold up a finger, cutting him off with a polite smile.   
“And what?” you question, “look, David; it was great catching up. No really,  _it was_ , but I have to meet up with a friend.” 

On cue a hand taps his shoulder, causing him to swivel round in surprise to see Ryan stood behind him, his eyes glinting threateningly beneath his face paint. “Hi” he says sweetly, offering a little wave; “I’m the friend.” With immense speed Ryan snaps his fist forward, knuckles crunching against David’s jaw and shattering it; your ex stumbling back in wailing agony as Ryan shakes his hand; mumbling _‘ouch’_. You throw him a smile, of which he returns, before you focus on the rest of the gang now rushing for you. 

Leaping into the air, you plant a firm foot onto the head of one of the men diving for you, kicking upwards and smashing his face into the dirt as you launch over the top of another; hands gripping his shoulders and hurling him into the nearest scaffolding as you exit your flip. Landing gracefully, you cast a glace to Ryan, admiring his technique as he coaxed two of the members to charge him from either side, stepping back and slamming their heads together with their combined momentum cracking their skulls; dusting off his hands as they crumple to the floor. 

A punch comes flying in your direction, snapping your attention back to the fight as you duck around it, throwing your own hook, your knuckles colliding with the side of the man’s face as you block his other punch attempts. With him disorientated you lower into a crouch and sweep your leg quickly under him, pleased as his knees buckle and he topples to the ground. Quickly, Ryan snatches at his legs, swinging him around and into two other men, knocking them down with a sickening thud before tossing his makeshift weapon aside; high fiving you. 

“Why can’t we just have a quiet night in?” you ask him, face a grimace as you step over the bodies sprawled across the ground, flexing your bleeding and bruising knuckles as he chuckles happily and cracks his wrist. “Maybe because you’re a whore?” David’s slurs; voice weak beneath the weight of his trembling body as he tries to stand and hold his jaw together. “What did you call her?” Ryan’s voice is dark as he snaps at the man in front of him, eyes flashing and becoming icy. “I said” David stands, and although wobbly, still manages to jab a finger in your direction as you roll your eyes; “she’s a whore.” 

“Oh now you’ve done it” you grumble, taking a deliberate step to the left, “now we’ll never get out of here.” You can see Ryan fading away as the anger takes over, the Vagabond making his entrance with a cruel and twisted smile; “this will only take a minute.” 

“No it won’t” you sigh, the movement of his body darting forward causing the air to swell around you as he throws himself at David, forcing his arm behind his back and kicking the back of his knees, knocking him down. You work your way over to a rusty and beaten car, perching on top of it as you watch the Vagabond drag David across the filthy ground, kicking him onto his back as he comes to rest beside the cement mixer. 

“I can look after myself, you know!” you call to him as he kneels beside a loudly complaining David, throwing you a sweet smile before driving a knife into the gang leader’s hand and skewering him to the ground; his agonising screams doing nothing to stir your sympathy. “I know” replies the Vagabond pleasantly, pressing the heel of his boot to David’s twitching wrist, blood welling in his palm as he turns on the mixer; smirking as it comes to life. 

“You know” you hear him say pleasantly, “you really should treat women better.” He pulls David’s body around as he continues to thrash, trying desperately to wrench his hand free. “Oh no,” Ryan lectures, snatching David’s other hand and holding it in place, his screams growing louder; “if you get away now you’ll never learn.” With a sharp breath Vagabond stakes your ex’s remaining hand into the ground before standing and admiring his handy work. 

“Y/N?” he calls and you stand, moving over to him, kicking your feet joyfully as you go. “I think Daniel”  
“-David-”  
“whatever, has something he’d like to say to you”. Ryan looks pointedly down at the man squirming at your feet, crucified to the floor, his tears and blood mingling as one. “C’mon Daniel-”   
“It’s still David” you interject, smiling as he casts you an exasperated glance, his eyes wide and playfully blue. You can barely hear David’s pleas as he grovels into the ground, lost momentarily in Ryan’s depths until he begins to angle the cement mixer’s spout towards the man; his panic growing louder. 

“Please!” he clumsily begs, his fingers flexing uselessly around the blades buries in his palms, the serrated edge locking them in place; “please, oh god please stop.” The Vagabond raises an eyebrow at him, motioning to you expectantly. David’s eyes dart between you, his mouth only tearing open with a slew of apologies as the cement mixer begins to move again. “I’m sorry!” he wails, chocking behind his tears as you watch the pitiful man, his jaw flailing beneath the skin, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, don’t kill me, please!” 

“I’m not going to kill you” you tell him, your voice gentle as his cries turn hopeful, “he is”. With a manic grin Vagabond pushes the cement mixer down, the thick heavy liquid falling into David’s screaming mouth, suffocating him as it forces its way down his throat and into his nose. After some time his twitches subside, his screams no longer scratching at your ears. 

Turning to the Vagabond, you see the rage ebbing away; Ryan taking his place, his face scrunching up as he mutters ‘ _gross_ ’. You laugh, offering him you hand, smiling as he slips it into his own before swinging it like a child; “you ready for celebratory ice cream?” 

 

* * *

 

 

You wander along the counter, indecisive as you peruse the countless flavours of ice cream, each as equally tempting as the other. Careful of the shattered glass, a remnant of your entrance, you step gingerly over it and head towards the stack of tubs to take one. Snatching a scoop you stand before the selection, diving into your favourite flavour, dropping the large scoop into your tub. “Why do you always do that?” you ask Ryan, quickly peaking over to his now clean face.

“Always do what?” Ryan replies, raiding the toppings counter and piling on as much as he could before slathering it in pools of hot fudge. You watch him, bemused as he stares at his tub for a moment, studying it; and then shoveling on more sprinkles. “You know,” you wave the scoop you’re holding ambiguously before driving it for seconds, fascinated as the swirls curl into a ball; “kill everyone who could possibly insult me within a 10 mile radius?”   
“Hey” he blurts out around a mouthful of chopped nuts, pouring some on to the mound he was creating, “I don’t do it all of the time.”

You roll your eyes, joining him by the toppings counter to start creating a mountain of your own. “Yes, you do”, you state confidently, bumping him out of the way playfully with your hip, smiling as he hops on one foot to regain his balance. “You know damn well that I could kill you where you stand with nothing but an ice cream scoop and a pack of gummy bears” you boast, you menace laughable; “I can take care of myself.”

“I want to take care of you” his words are mumbled, but you catch them as he delivers them to the floor, eyes averted as he spoons ice cream into his mouth, defeated. Tilting your head, you narrow your eyes in confusion, waiting for him to continue. Gulping loudly, he holds up his spoon, waving it as he talks. “I just, after all this time, I-” you watch him struggle, your heart warming as he searches for the right way to display his affection. 

It had been like this for years, the two of you skirting around the obvious as if it never existed; unable to bring yourself to embrace it for fear of the potential destruction. Neither of you could risk the other, without your other half you were nothing but an empty shell trying to act whole. As you watch him fight with his feelings and construct a narrative that tells you he cares without letting the words escape his lips; you wonder whether you could survive together any easier than living apart. 

You want nothing more that to reach out your fingertips and fold him into your arms, to cradle his head against your chest in silence, feeling his breathing fall into time with your own. You wonder if he would be able to keep his eyes open as he listens to your heart, or whether he would pull you closer and sink into a calming bliss as you stroke his hair. The moment would stretch on forever, the two of you against the world as it crumbles around you; fire and flame unable to touch you if he were to just hold your hand. You could have the world at your fingertips just by allowing him to nuzzle into your palm, planting a gentle and warm kiss to your skin to leave it tingling. 

“Y/N?” his voice crashes through your mind like a rock through a window; your eyes refocusing on his face, the small smile dancing across his lips. You give him an apologetic expression, heart squeezing as you ache while knowing you could never love him enough, knowing that you would destroy him in a split fit of uncontrollable anger; as he would you. You return his smile as best you can, though he notices the sadness in your eyes, his face clouding in concern. “Y/N, are you alright?” but the words won’t come out, you feel yourself rocking slightly now after having traded places with him, struggling to draw in the air and mold your emotions into something safe yet sincere. 

He stands, placing his ice cream down and moving around to you, bending his knees to stare into your eyes, hands hesitating before touching the tops of your shoulders. They sting, the touch as alien as it is familiar, comforting and heartbreaking as your body reacts to the feeling of his skin on yours. You want to melt forward into him, and it takes every ounce of your willpower to remain standing, sinking into his clear blue eyes. 

“I’m sorry” he whispers, he voice deep and comforting; “I know you don’t need protecting.” His words swim numbly through your mind, his misinterpretation of your emotions leaving you drowning within yourself. You want to grab his face and scream, let your love and adoration bubble from your lips; but a smile is all you can manage, a dainty shrug rubbing your shoulders against the calluses and scars of his fingertips. “You can take care of yourself” he continues, eyes searching your own, trying to fathom the thoughts drifting through your distracted mind; “but I don’t want you to.” 

“Pooky…” you breathe, his words trying to penetrate the wall you were attempting to build inside, desperate to block out your needs so that you may return to the logical safety that you had shrouded yourself in for so long. Your mind latches onto the small circles his thumbs are rubbing across your exposes skin, his eyelashes casting long and elegant shadows across his strong cheekbones. “I can get away with telling you this” he replies, “I’ve managed to convince myself that it won’t cause any damage.” 

“Sit with me?” you ask gently, slowly lowering yourself to the floor, legs crossed in front of you on the chequered tiles. Ryan joins you, crossing his legs and pressing them against your own as he faces you. His fingers reaching out to pull your hands towards him, holding them both between his, encasing them. You think of protesting, but the look in his eyes tells you to let him hold you, even if it’s only your hands. He lowers his gaze to them before repeating, “It won’t cause any damage.”

Your eyes trace the lines of his face and the shape of his shoulders as he talks, unable to look directly at him for fear of the tears behind your eyes pooling over. “You are so important to me” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t need protecting, but I have to try.” He lets out a sigh, fidgeting for a moment, “because at least then I’ve done as much as I can. I’ll have something to cling to, because I tried.” You feel your head growing heavy, his words lapping at the resolve of your mind, dripping through the cracks. 

“I don’t understand” you tell him, trying to see his expression. He lets out a deep breath of air, turning his face to yours, his eyes shimmering the same as your own; “I have to do everything I can to keep from losing you.” His words wrap around your hands, each syllable pressing against your skin with his fingers.  
“You aren’t going to lose me, Ryan” you tell him, your voice gentle and understanding; “I’m nothing without you.”   
“You could be everything without me” he corrects sheepishly, tilting his head to face the ceiling, his eyes closing as his jaw line tenses in the moonlight; “which is why I’m afraid.”

“I can’t leave you” you breathe, removing a hand from his own and placing it delicately on his cheek, aware of the fear and adoration radiating in each other’s eyes.  
“You can’t promise me that” his voice cracks as his face presses into your hand, turning to nuzzle into his sadly with his eyes scrunched closed.  
“Ryan, please…” you plead, “I’m never leaving you.” 

Shuffling, you pull yourself up and onto your knees, using both hands to hold his face, directing his eyes to yours, urging him desperately to understand. To hear the screaming and crying echoing within your head as you ache for him, begging him to understand that each night you are divided the nightmares take refuge shake shake you into screams. “Without you, there is no me” he looks at you, the sorrow dressing his face stinging behind your eyes, “you are everything to me, Ryan. Without you there’d be nothing left.” 

“ I want to tell you” he chokes, his tears sliding into your fingers, nestling in the curves of your skin as his eyes glisten, searching your own as you repeat his words;  
“I want to tell you.” With a deep and shaky breath he tries to smile as you do the same. Slowly, he opens his arms after much consideration, inviting you in with a bite of his lip; “platonic hug?” You’re unsure if you’re laughing or crying as you crawl onto him, straddling him and cradling his head to your chest. As his arms wind around your waist he presses his hand against your back, holding you close, his eyes drift close as you rest your cheek atop his head; tears littering his hair. 

 


End file.
